Question: Hello Rabbis,
I am a Gentile trying to convert to Judaism, but I am also disabled and dependent upon my immediate family for my food, shelter, etc. I am afraid that if I tell my family about my intended conversion, they will stop all support of me at an instant and I would be helpless in terms of money, shelter, and the like. Telling family about conversion is intimidating enough under normal circumstances, but in addition to that I am afraid for my material well-being should I tell them. I know G-d will provide in all things, but I sometimes wonder if I am meant to stay a Gentile in order to make sure I am provided for. I sincerely believe in the Tanakh and G-d's oneness, and want to live a Jewish life, but I have no idea how to do so without endangering my well-being. Any advice would be helpful.

Your passion for monotheism, the Tanakh and for living a Jewish life is commendable. My suggestion would be to find a local rabbi with whom you could develop a relationship and who could truly guide you through the tricky but meaningful path that lies ahead. Clearly there is no absolute obligation for you to become formally Jewish and in addition, I would not want you to put your welfare at risk. However, in working with someone close at hand, perhaps a path to conversion could be found that would allow you to be at peace with your family and maintain your livelihood. In addition, the advice given to continue to study I think is excellent advice. If you are interested in finding a Conservative rabbi near you perhaps www.uscj.org might help. Behatzlakha – Be well!

Question: My father is over 90. He has remarried and will not be buried with my mother, his wife of almost 50 years who has passed. I don't love my father. I don't believe he loves me; we have not spoken in years and when we have it just opens old wounds and literally makes me ill - physically and mentally. Both parents were abusive in different ways. Do I have any obligation to mourn?

First of all, let me acknowledge what a complicated situation this is. Also, it is clear from your words how difficult and emotional this relationship with your father is. With humility, therefore, I express my hope that my words help to provide you with the information you seek in order to make the best decision. It seems to me from the fact that you are asking the question, that it is important for you to understand how our Jewish tradition approaches a situation like this. So I will start by saying that from a Jewish legal perspective the answer is yes - you do still have an obligation to mourn. What that would mean is observing the laws and customs of Jewish mourning related to: burial, shivah, recitation of mourner’s Kaddish and year following the death. Speaking more broadly, let us acknowledge that no one can “command” one to have particular feelings and thus, in that sense, the Jewish tradition does not try to dictate your inner life concerning this. Rather it focuses on the traditional behaviors that mark this life cycle. Philosophically, the rationale for the obligation of mourning, even in the case of an abusive parent with whom one does not have a positive relationship, is that your father is still responsible for giving you the gift of life. For that alone, the tradition feels a proper recognition of his death is merited. I hope this response aided you in your struggle with this question.

Question: My question is about the Jewish ethics of using a false identity to post comments on the web. In particular, if I want to comment on something posted (perhaps in a blog, or write a review of some book or product), am I acting ethically if I create a 'fake' name and use an email address that can't be identified as me? Is the answer different if I am writing critical things about a product or work, even if I am telling my actual opinion and/or experience with it? Does this change if I am writing comments telling people about my own work and encouraging them to go see it on another site, or praising things that I sell? What are the boundaries? I know there are some because I recall an incident in which an academic created false identities and praised his own work, while denigrating others' works, and that was thought to be unethical, if not illegal. What do Jewish values and ethics teach in this area? Is it ever okay to use an alias or false identity, and if so, what are the limits or boundaries?

Anonymity is not a crime nor is preserving one’s anonynimity unethical. However lying, or deceiving (of course) is a problem in Jewish ethics. So context becomes very important. If the site on which you want to post is predicated on proclaiming your identity so that others can know who you are, then presenting a false identity is in fact deception. If the site, or culture of the site, implies no requirement for identifiying oneself in order to comment, simply using an e-mail address that does not identify you in a meaningful way as your name would seem to me to be acceptable. The e-mail address is real and therefore you have not lied or deceived but you have maintained your anonymity. I think part of the calculus has to be an assessment of your reason for being anonymous. If it is to deceive, as in the professor praising himself using an unidentifying (or purely false) identity, then of course it is unethical. If it is to preserve one's privacy or to be able to give feedback honeslty so that there is no personal backlash, in a forum which allows for anonymous feedback, then I think it is OK. And to avoid untruth, best to use the unidentifying email address as one’s name when preserving one’s privacy then a fake name, which would be by definition presenting a falsehood.

Question: I recently went away for Shabbat to a location with few Jews and no synagogue, and I forgot to bring my siddur (prayer book). However, I did bring my iPhone which has a siddur application on it (as well as a Torah application). In this situation is it okay to use the iPhone applications on Shabbat to allow me to say the prayers, study Torah, and recite kiddush and bircat hamazon (blessings before and after the meal)? How do I balance observing Shabbat with the use of technology to observe Shabbat?

I first want to remark how wonderful it is that Shabbat, prayer and study are so important to you in your life and that even when it is not convenient for you to participate (you were away from other Jews and community), you still wanted to find a way to do these mitzvot and honor Shabbat. Regardless of the legal answer, I think that this is laudable.

In general, it has certainly been true that the majority opinion in the “traditional” world is that the use of electricity is forbidden on Shabbat, as it is likened to fire and to other activities for which there are explicit prohibitions in the Torah. From a mainstream Halakhic (legal) point of view one could not, therefore, justify the use of electronics in all but the most dire circumstances (ex. In order to save a life). If I were in your circumstances, assuming I understand them all, I would do as my Orthodox colleague suggested and do my best from memory with both the prayers and Torah study.

However, I will say that there are non mainstream positions in our Halakhic literature that support the ability to use electricity on Shabbat, some of which date back to the original introduction of electricity to Jewish law and which also have precedent in both the Orthodox and Conservative worlds. One might make a case that one could rely upon those alternative opinions in bedieved (after the fact, non-ideal) circumstances. For more information on this complicated subject please see this teshuvah by Rabbi Daniel Nevins http://www.rabbinicalassembly.org/sites/default/files/public/halakhah/teshuvot/2011-2020/electrical-electronic-devices-shabbat.pdf.

Question: I would like a Jewish perspective of this question that appeared in the New York Times Magazine. "About 15 years ago, I was summoned for jury duty. The defendant was charged with two counts of murder. During jury selection, I was asked if I supported the death penalty. I don't. I'm unalterably opposed to capital punishment. But I feared that potential jurors who did not support the death penalty could be automatically disqualified by the prosecution. So I said I agreed with capital punishment. That way, if it came down to it, I might help spare the defendant from execution. But this violated the oath I had taken to tell the truth. Was it ethical for me to lie in order to possibly spare the life of this defendant"?

In short, I very much agree with Rabbi Fischer here. As noble as the intentions may be, lying under a direct oath, especially if God's name is invoked, is not ethical. An individual citizen cannot take the law into their own hands in this manner or the integrity of the system as a whole begins to crumble. Those who oppose capital punishment must find honest means to stand against it and to convince their fellow citizens and law makers of thier view. Thank you for the question.

Question: Please answer a question from an artist in Denmark whether there is such a thing as "typical" Jewish catchwords pertaining to ethical values in the Jewish tradition.
An artist wishes to use the Hebrew words or acronyms for a memorial for Danish Jews who perished during WW2.

Please answer a question from an artist in Denmark whether there is such a thing as "typical" Jewish catchwords pertaining to ethical values in the Jewish tradition. An artist wishes to use the Hebrew words or acronyms for a memorial for Danish Jews who perished during WW2.

My Orthodox college gave a wonderful answer so I will simply add some terms to consider that have meaning pertaining to ethical values in the Jewish tradition: Musar, Midot, and Aarachim are all words in the Jewish tradition that pertain to values with different etymologies and different connotations. Etikah (ethics), is a word in modern Hebrew. Pirkei Avot is a seminal Jewish work from the 3rd century containing material dating back the pervious several hundred years that contains statements of Jewish values and is often loosely translated as “The Ethics of our Ancestors (or Fathers)”.

I hope this helps and I wish you blessings in completing such an important project.

Question: My parents used to take me to visit my grandparents. It seems that today children want their parents to come to their home to see the grandkids .Must I visit my son's home to see his children? Should they not visit me with their kids? I was recently told "you know where we live," as if it is my obligation to go to them to see the grandkids. What does Judaism say about this?

My parents used to take me to visit my grandparents. It seems that today children want their parents to come to their home to see the grandkids .Must i visit my sons home to see his children? Should they not visit me with their kids? I was recently told "you know where we live," as if it is my obligation to go to them to see the grandkids. What does Judaism say about this?

I am not aware of specific guideline regarding this question. However, the mitzvah of respecting one’s parents is certainly instructive here. In essence, the core of the ethical nature of your question has less to do with the issue of the grandchildren, per se, and more to do with the respect your children have for you as it relates to this issue. Without knowing the situation in more detail, I will not presume to stand in “judgment”. What I can say is that unless a parent is asking a child to do something that is unethical and/or against Jewish law, or that a parent’s request comes into direct conflict with the fulfilling of another mitzvah of equal importance (which few are), children should do whatever they can to honor their parents. I personally think that it is reasonable for a child to ask if his parents would like to come to them for visits as it is both expensive and sometimes difficult for a whole family to travel, especially out of town. At the same time, it is also reasonable for a grandparent to expect that sometimes their children visit with them with the grandchildren. The most important thing is that there is respectful communication and eventual agreement about what one each can expect from the other. The goal is strong, loving relationships that honor each other. Both parent and child have a responsibility to make sure that this goal is achieved. Usually honest open dialogue about what one’s needs and expectations are and the rationales for those expectations can help people reach satisfying and honorable conclusions.

Question: Currently I am in the process of finding an Orthodox Rabbi to sponsor me for conversion, but I heard that the Chief Rabbinate of Israel only accepts Orthodox conversions that were done with Rabbis recognized by Israel. I visited the Rabbinical Council Of America and clicked on the Conversion to Judaism tab, and it provided very useful information, but I want to know where can I find a recognized sponsoring Rabbi in the State of Maryland.
For ALL DENOMINATIONS: Can I convert with anyone (Orhodox or other) not approved by the Israeli rabbinate, if I convert in the US? Will that conversion be accepted in Israel?
[Administrator's note: A similar question is found on Jewish Values Online at question 848 which you can find by searching for Chief Rabbi in Israel, or entering link "http://www.jewishvaluesonline.org/question.php?id=848" in your browser]

As the other respondants have suggested you certainly can convert with Rabbis not approved by the Cheif Rabinate of Israel(which include rabbis of all demoninations, not just rabbis in the more "liberal" streams). Outside of Israel there are no practical ramifications to using such rabbis for conversion and further the government of the State of Israel recognizes conversions facilitated by "non-approved" rabbis outside the State of Israel for sake fo citizenship, etc.. Threrefore I would suggest that you make your decision based on which movement offers the most substantial and meaningful road to conversion as well as based on your choice of in which movement you are likely to continue your path once the conversion is completed. Behatzlachah, success, in whichever path you chooose.

I completely concur with the background information provided by the other panelists regarding the dedication of a memorial stone. The aim of this ritual is to add holiness to what could have otherwise been a mundane act, as well as to provide another moment to honor a loved one. While I wouldn't go as far as to say that the covering of the stone in advance is nonsense, it is clearly not necessary. For those who do cover, it is clear that cheesecloth, when chosen, is only selected for practical purposes by the cemetery.

Question: Is it possible to consecrate private property for a burial site? What are the requirements, according to Halachah - Jewish law (as opposed to secular law)? And if so, what kind of rituals does the consecration consist of and who may do so?

Is it possible to consecrate private property for a burial site? What are the requirements, according to Halachah - Jewish law (as opposed to secular law)? And if so, what kind of rituals does the consecration consist of and who may do so?

A Jewish cemetery is created when a Jew, or Jewish organization, acquires land for the purpose of using it as a cemetery and creates visible borders around that area that will be used for Jewish burial alone. In this way the land is “consecrated”. Once done that land is considered sacred as the cemetery is one of the central institutions that need to be established in any Jewish community. It has been customary to perform a dedication/consecration ceremony before the land is used for the first time for burial that is usually made up of certain Hebrew readings from the Jewish Bible (often Psalms), typically concluding with the blessing that speaks of God as Master of Life and Death. Some ceremonies have included actually walking the borders of the cemetery as part of the ritual and in some cases shofrot (ram’s horns) are blown as well. The owner(s) and representatives of the Jewish community are usually present for the ceremony and often the whole community is invited to witness or participate.

Question: Are there Jewish sub-cultures (denominations, communities, burial societies, cemeteries) that permit the presence of photographs or etchings of the departed individual on the headstone. I was in a Jewish cemetery in Queens, NY, and I believe I saw some headstones with images. Is this halachically (by Jewish law) permissible? Preferred? Common? Is it determined by local custom?

Are there Jewish sub-cultures (denominations, communities, burial societies, cemeteries) that permit the presence of photographs or etchings of the departed individual on the headstone. I was in a Jewish cemetery in Queens, NY, and I believe I saw some headstones with images. Is this Halachically (by Jewish Law) permissible? preferred? common? Is it determined by local custom?

To answer your question it is important that we distinguish between etchings and photographs. One of the original reasons that many Jewish legal authorities gave for forbidding “images” of the desceased on the matzevah (tombstone) was that it was akin to an idol. And since prayers are often said in a cemetery, such prayers in front of these images would constitute idol worship. While a strict view of this legal concern might apply to carved etchings, it would not apply to a photograph, which being two dimensional is by all opinions, by definition, not an idol.

So, while it seems that in the “traditional” community of today the prevailing custom is clearly not to place photographs on the matzevah, this does not constitute an absolute prohibition. There have definitely been rabbis in the past that have permitted this practice and even amongst many of the rabbis today who would discourage it, few (outside of the ultra-Orthodox community,perhaps) would say that it is halakhicly asur (legally forbidden). In fact, recognized expert and rabbi, Maurice Lamm writes, “If [a monument with a photograph is] already erected, however, these tombstones should cause no disputes and are better left to stand as they are” (The Jewish Ways in Death and Mourning, 191). In conclusion, while the prevailing custom is clearly not to have photographs on the matzevah, if there is a family custom of doing so, (especially if it can be traced to a rabbinic decision to permit), it can be allowed.

What can a “regular Jew” do to defend misleading media bias against Israel?

There are many opportunities for a “regular Jew” to defend Israel and the Jewish people from misleading articles and reports in the media. However, the most effective way to do this, I believe, is probably to be involved with organizations that you trust, which are dedicated to exactly this. For example, CAMERA (Committee for Accuracy in Middle East Reporting in America), http://www.camera.org/ is always looking for people to report inaccuracies, to write letters to the editor, and to inform others about the biases that exist in the media. On their website they have a “What You Can Do” section (http://www.camera.org/index.asp?x_context=22&x_article=387) that is very helpful and that can also give you further resources. Some people also like MEMRI, HonestReporting.com, their local JCRC, AJC and many other organizations that do good work in this field. The key, though, is to remain educated and up-to-date on the issues, understand the Israeli position on them, and make sure to inform those in your circle of influence about how you feel about these issues and the way in which the media portrays them. Further, public relations work can also be done by drawing to attention to a myriad of wonderful things that Israel is doing in the world so that the picture of Israel to the general public is more nuanced and less politically focused. Thanks for doing this important work!

Question: My husband and I have been married for 19 years. Ten years ago, he was diagnosed with dementia, and more recently Parkinson's disease. Other health issues include heart failure and psychosis. I became a nurse to take care of him, and I gladly and willingly do so everyday. However, I have lost my intimate partner and friend. He is not the same man I married, and have been alone physically and mentally for 10 years.
I have met another man who has been my friend for years. We have strong feelings for each other, though I refuse to leave my husband, as there is no one else to take care of him. If I were to have a relationship with this man, emotional and/or physical, will I be condemned by God as an adulteress?

My husband and I have been married for 19 years. Ten years ago, he was diagnosed with dementia, and more recently Parkinson's disease. Other health issues include heart failure and psychosis. I became a nurse to take care of him, and I gladly and willingly do so everyday. However, I have lost my intimate partner and friend. He is not the same man I married, and have been alone physically and mentally for 10 years. I have met another man who has been my friend for years. We have strong feelings for each other, though I refuse to leave my husband, as there is no one else to take care of him. If I were to have a relationship with this man, emotional and/or physical, will I be condemned by God as an adulteress?

First, and foremost, my heart goes out to both you and your husband for the incredibly difficult circumstances in which you find yourselves. From a legal-ethical perspective this is a very complicated situation, as you already appreciate in ways I will never understand. From a Jewish values point of view I would like to outline explicitly what I think are the ethical issues. Ethically, you made a commitment to your husband when you married him and you are to be praised and honored for your dedication to that commitment, something you would pledge to carry on even if you were to continue moving forward with a relationship with this other man. Clearly, also, as a human being, you should have the ability to be happy, to feel loved and to be engaged in a fulfilling intimate relationship. On the other hand, you are, in fact, married, which carries its own ethical obligations of exclusivity when it comes to such intimacy. Therein lies the ostensible conflict between competing values.

To answer your question on a practical level though, we turn to theology and halakha (Jewish law). Theologically I would like to state that no human being can speak for God in such a direct way about a particular situation. Therefore, I would never say to someone in your situation that you would be “condemned by God”. I have no authority, nor do I want such authority, to make such a judgment. In terms of Jewish law, it is clear that the jumping off point for the discussion would be that you are married and therefore must honor the obligations of marriage indefinitely. Such obligations are not abborgated by illness. Yet, there might be a legal solution that would attempt to honor both competing values, as difficult as such an action may seem -- divorce (or another form of divorce called hafka’at kiddushin - annulment of the marriage). How this could be done depends on whether your husband currently has any moments of lucidity. If he does, perhaps you (or someone else) could try to get him to express agreement to giving you a Get (a Jewish divorce). Once he expresses such a desire, you could become officially divorced, legally and ethically freeing you to be in a relationship with someone else, even while you continue to care for your husband and honor your love and commitment for him in doing so. If he no longer has moments of lucidity, legally, this becomes even more difficult as he cannot make a free-will decision. In this case one would have to submit your case to a Beit Din – a rabbinic court – for a legal annulment based on the idea that your husband, as he was, is no longer “present”. There is a chance, but no guarantee, that a Beit Din would apply the law that allows for such an annulment when a husband has been physically missing, to such a case as this.

I wish you strength and blessing as you continue to balance the many ethical considerations and the strong emotions that you are dealing with at this time. Your concern for your husband’s care is admirable and your concern for doing the right thing and honoring Jewish law is commendable. I hope you find resolution.

Question: I, as a Pakistani Jew, would like to draw your kind attention towards those Pakistanis who intend to convert to Judaism, leaving the religion of their forefathers. Unfortunately, there are no synagogue(s) and no rabbi(s) here. What can be done? Can you advise or help those in this situation?

First of all, it is wonderful that you have shown such interest. Second, on the most basic level, I agree with my colleague that without a supporting community and a rabbinic court to authorize the conversion, conversion would be impossible. However, there may be solutions, depending on what you are willing to do and what intentions you have. Some of the learning could be done as distance learning, on-line, for instance. Yet, there would need to be some personal contact between a sponsoring rabbi and his students. Would travel a few times a year be possible? Also, is living Jewishly, according to tradition, feasible in Pakistan? Kosher food? Ability to provide Jewish education? A place for prayer and communal gathering? Would you. or the others, be willing to make Aliyah and move to Israel? Without more information I cannot be more specific. Thank you for your question.

The basic answer to this question is that the Book of Maccabees is not part of the Hebrew Bible. It is considered Apocrypha, or ancient texts that are outside of the Biblical Cannon. Only Biblical texts are read ritually as Scripture during the holiday service and for Jews, the Book of Maccabees is not a Biblical text. The reason the Book of Maccabees (which are actually two separate books) were not included in the Cannon is a matter of scholarly debate. For instance, according to one well-supported theory, these books were the latest chronologically and were considered to have been written after the age of prophets had concluded. Regardless, traditionally the Book of Maccabees has not been considered a sacred book even while it holds great historical value.

Your question is an essential one and one which could be a touchstone for much more discussion than this format allows. So I will attempt to answer the question from a traditional Jewish legal perspective first and make a few comments at the end. According to the official website of Israel’s Foreign Ministry, all Jews are eligible for Israeli citizenship under the “Law of Return”. As the website states, “For the purposes of this Law, ‘Jew’ means a person who was born of a Jewish mother, or has converted to Judaism and is not a member of another religion”. On a basic level this is essentially the traditional religious legal definition of who is a Jew, as well. With some specific exceptions, according to Israeli law and Jewish law, if you are born of a Jewish mother, you are considered Jewish.

Still, many factors can and have complicated this definition over time. For instance, the Reform Movement, in relatively recent times, have recognized “Patrilineal Descent” as a legally legitimate criterion for Jewish identity, meaning that if you are born of a Jewish mother, or father, you are considered de facto to be a Jew. Conservative and Orthodox Judaism, as well as the State of Israel, have not followed suit in that regard. The question of what is a legitimate conversion and who is eligible to effect conversion is a controversial topic right now as well. While the traditional minimum standards are somewhat clear, there are rabbis and institutions who do not feel these standards are binding and still others who question conversions because of who performs them regardless of whether the conversion was carried out according to Jewish law. Further, in regard to inclusion, the policies adopted by synagogues and other Jewish institutions relating to what level of inclusion to grant to someone who is not legally Jewish (by that institution’s own standards) varies as well from institution to institution. Finally I will note that the issue of Jewish identity can be viewed from not only the legal and political aspects but also the emotional and psychological aspects, which I did not deal with in this response but which deserves attention. I hope this was helpful.

Overall, I substantively agree with Rabbi Bieler.Our tradition certainly prohibits the intentional wasting of our natural resources.And as he noted, we are particularly careful with food to try to find a use for any leftovers so that as little food as possible is discarded.Yet, Shabbat and other festival meals are supposed to be celebratory and special. So larger varieties of food do get served and portion sizes tend to be larger, which I think is OK. The gray area here is what is the limit?I think your question brings up the point that we have to be mindful of that line between enhancing a meal appropriately for Shabbat and going too far.More is not always better. Thanks for asking the question.

How do you fulfill a sense of obligation and emotional ties when a person is narcissistic and self-serving?

I want to first say that I agree with much of what Rabbi Shudnow wrote.It can indeed be hurtful, frustrating and painful to continue to engage in a relationship with someone whom you perceive is narcissistic and does not seem to be sensitive to your feelings.Depending on the relationship, this would clearly be a justification for limiting ties or for changing the way in which you interact with that individual.So while I agree with Rabbi Shudnow that we are obligated to avoid passing ultimate judgment on the character of others – that is for God alone to do -- we cannot dismiss the fact that such a person may hurt us over and over when we continue to put our trust in them.That being the case, it would be cruel to force someone to endure that again and again.Yet, for those closest to us there can be ways to support them and care for them that limits our emotional exposure.In other words, this is not an all or nothing scenario in which one must decide either to be in such a relationship or not.Depending on the specifics there is often an in-between that might allow one to fulfill one’s obligations to another without undue or overmuch suffering.If this question is about a parent/child or child/parent relationship there are certain obligations inherent in these that can rarely be abrogated, as Rabbi Shundow noted.A more focused and specific look at your particular situation in light of Jewish law would be required to help decide what the best path would be.

It has been suggested that one of the central reasons that Jews have both survived and been able to maintain a religion that is ancient and still relevant is because of our ability to remember. Part of Judaism’s power is that we are able to find current meaning in the stories of our past. Tisha B’Av indeed commemorates the destruction of the Temples and the sadness our people felt at the loss of such a central institution in their lives. Yet, the rabbis, over time, essentially turned Tisha B’Av into a day that commemorates all Jewish tragedy. If one can manage only an “intellectual sadness” over the destruction of the Temples, which occurred so long ago, perhaps any number of the more contemporary Jewish tragedies will evoke the emotional sadness that characterizes the Book of Lamentations. However, perhaps more important than any feelings of sadness, Tisha B’Av and its accompanying customs, remind us to remember our past, to recall what our people have endured to reach this point in our history, to appreciate the gift of our heritage and to refocus on the importance of our relationship with God. While sadness may be the mode of the day, the goal is most likely to remember.

In truth, I am unaware of the existence of many specific laws that relate to special treatment of siblings. There is, for example, the ancient, and no longer operative, law that one must marry the widow of your brother should he die in order to preserve his family heritage. More importantly today, Jewish law requires that a sibling mourn for a lost brother or sister for a full thirty days, as one would mourn for a spouse or child. This section of the law certainly puts sibling relationships on par with other essential relationships, which our tradition holds sacred. In that regard, it is important to note that family, in general, is emphasized over and over again in the Torah and in the Talmud. Reflecting this core value, sibling relationships, which are an essential part of the family dynamic, would therefore need to be conducted with the highest degree of respect. Furthermore, respect for all of one's fellow creatures, is of critical importance in Judaism. According to Talmud Berachot, Biblical prohibitions may even be transgressed on account of this value in certain circumstances. All the more so, it would seem, should one be respectful in their conduct if the fellow creature you are addressing is your sibling – a member of your own family.

In sum, respectful treatment of every living creature is an expectation in Judaism. As family is a core value for Judaism this would be especially true in regard to siblings.

Question: Recently, certain whiskey distillers in Scotland made a decision to boycott Israeli products. Is a boycott the best/most effective response to a boycott? Is there a better way for Jewish leadership to guide their constituents to express their unhappiness or displeasure with a decision?

This is an excellent question.Perhaps there are “better/more effective” ways of responding and these should be explored.However, just to note, in addition to the proposed boycotting of the products of these distillers, Jewish organizations have embarked on an educational and political campaign as well. They have been engaged in attempting to educate local governments in that region, and the other businesses that work with these distilleries, as well as the distilleries themselves, about the issues.We hope that during this process they will see that a boycott of Israeli products is not just.In addition, we hope that the new relationships our community is forming with them will also lead to more understanding in the future.

Yet, at the same time, since essentially we are dealing with businesses, it is important to let such businesses know that their consumers purchase products, not just based on the product’s quality, but on the ethics of the company that produces them.By saying that we will not buy from you because you are taking an unjust stance against Israel, we are using our peaceful prerogative to purchase with our conscience.Perhaps that will draw their attention to the issue and motivate them to become more educated on the subject.

Question: I have been invited to a ceremonial stone unveiling that I will not be able to attend. I would like to acknowledge the event in some way, but I am not familiar with the acceptable customs and do not want to offend the family in any way. Is it appropriate to send a card or a gift of some kind to the family to acknowledge the event?

While gifts are not customary, a card would be very nice. Further, there is also the custom of giving charity in memory of a person who died. Making a donation to a charitable organization in memory of the deceased is a very nice way to acknowledge the event and honor the memory of the person who died. I would recommend this wither in addition to, or instead of, a card.

Various sources in Jewish tradition express beliefs that have similarities to what most people associate with the term “karma”. Whether it be “Midah Kneged Midah”, a measure for a measure, or the idea in the Talmud, “As one does, so do they do to him”, or even the kabbalistic concept that what we do as humans in this world determines how God, in heaven, behaves towards us. Further, it is clear that Judaism believes in the significance of our actions, the power that they have and, therefore, the ramifications each choice carries.

Yet, Judaism contains within it ideas that are contrary to the core idea of karma. We simply do not believe that we are fatalistically tied to the consequences of an action committed in the past. Through our concept of teshuva, our radical belief in our ability to change ourselves and God’s judgment of us, we can break out of any cycle and change our “fate”. On Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement and Judgment, we pronounce that “Repentance, Prayer and Acts of Righteousness can avert the severity of the decree”. As part of our liturgy we proclaim that even after we have committed certain actions we still can alter the spiritual consequences and begin anew.

The Jewish notion of fate is different in another important way as well. The concept of karma is often portrayed as hyper-individualized. In Jewish text, consequences to behavior are almost always expressed on a broader scale, in reference to the entire Jewish people or even the world. Even in our confessions on Yom Kippur in the private Amidah, we pronounce our sins in the plural, for what "we" have done. Our actions may not rebound directly on us. Rather, they contribute to the state of the community at large. The good actions of our fellows help mitigate the evil ones while the evil ones do the same vis a vis the good. Fate, judgment and consequences are determined in Judaism on a broader scale.

Finally, it is important to point out that like other Western religions, Judaism also expresses a belief in a merciful God. We believe, therefore, in the possibility that though we may not “deserve it”, we can be spared the just consequences of our actions because of Divine compassion. Thus, because of God’s mercy our actions do not always come back directly to us in kind. In that sense the Jewish concept of judgment and fate is a “kinder” one and one that allows each of us, during the span of this lifetime, to grow and change in significant ways.

According to Biblical and Jewish tradition human beings were made in the Divine Image and thus are obligated to treat their lives and bodies with the highest form of respect and care.Further in Deuteronomy 4:15 we are explicitly commanded to take good care of our lives.This value was codified in Jewish law in many places, most famously by Maimonides who wrote, “It is a positive commandment to remove any stumbling block which constitutes a danger and to be on guard against it.The Sages have prohibited many things because they endanger one’s life”.Further Rabbi Mosheh Isreles, the author of the gloss on one of our greatest codes (the Shulkhan Arukh), wrote: “. . . one should avoid all things that might lead to danger”.

Applying these teachings to your question, in my view, leads to the conclusion that Jewish law prohibits even occasional smoking “without inhaling”, as well.Due to the fact that it is our obligation to remove any “stumbling block” and that we must avoid anything that “leads” to danger, even placing a cigarette in one’s mouth can be seen as forbidden.The temptation to have more than one, to inhale even when one intends not to, or even to do so accidentally, is much too strong.Further, since nicotine is clearly understood as an addictive substance any regular contact with it should be seen as imperiling.Further, there may be other real health risks, eg. cancer of the lip or mouth, etc. even when one does not inhale.Finally, even if there was no harm that could come to oneself from such a circumstance, the second hand smoke produced by the cigarette or cigar could harm others, which would certainly prohibit such an activity from both a legal and ethical perspective.

I will say that if the occasional cigarette or cigar is part of an approved program of quitting smoking, and that this demonstrates a marked decrease in smoking from what is typical for someone, this should probably be encouraged.However, the idea of having an occasional cigarette which one does not inhale must only be a stage in a program that leads to the cessation of smoking entirely for this to be considered “OK” on some level.From a halakhic or legal point of view, however, the activity of smoking is still always forbidden.

Question: Is there a problem accepting a business loan from a close Jewish relative with the understanding that the loan will be paid back with an extemely low interest rate, considering that Jewish law prohibits a Jew from charging another Jew interest.

Is there a problem accepting a business loan from a close Jewish relative with the understanding that the loan will be paid back with an extremely low interest rate, considering that Jewish law prohibits a Jew from charging another Jew interest?

In Exodus 22:24 it states, “If you lend money to My people, to the poor, do not act toward them as a creditor; exact no interest from them.”And in Deuteronomy 23:20 it states, “You shall not deduct interest from loansto your countrymen, whether in money or food or anything else that can be deducted as interest.”In addition in Leviticus 25:35-38 it states, “If your kinsman, being in straits, comes under your authority . . . do not exact from him advance or accrued interest . . .Do not lend him your money at advance interest . . . I the Lord am your God”

Based on these verses the Torah is clear that any interest charged to a fellow Jew as part of a direct loan, no matter how low the rate, is expressly forbidden.This is called by the rabbis ribbit kezuzah.Therefore, the simple legal answer to your question is that there is indeed a problem with a Jew (even more so a close relative) loaning another Jew money with interest of any kind.

Broadening this issue though, from a legal point of view, I would point out a few other laws that allow for some more flexibility in the extension of loans with interest.One, according to Jewish law one can accept a loan with interest from, and extend a loan with interest to, a non-Jew.Two, some rabbinic authorities, as a general rule, permit loans with interest to be accepted when they are given by corporations (ex. banks), instead of individuals, even if Jews are employees or executives in such corporations.Finally, there is also a legal mechanism called the heter iska that is employed throughout the State of Israel, where this issue could potentially pose a major obstacle to conducting regular financial and banking transactions.A heter iska is essentially an approved way of restructuring a loan or debt so that it becomes an investment instead of a loan. This presumes that the investor assumes some element of risk should the business fail, which is one basic difference between an investment and a loan. An investor could potentially lose money, whereas a borrower always remains responsible to pay.The words heteriska actually mean, performing an allowable business deal that is similar to a prohibited transaction.Thus, by restructuring the transaction, investments that pay dividends replace loans that incur interest payments.

From an ethical point of view it is clear from the context in both Exodus and Leviticus that the main idea of the prohibition against interest is not to take advantage of those within one’s community who are in need.Presumably, if one is asking for a loan it is because one is in need of financial help.A fellow citizen and Jew who has the ability should provide that loan without seeking profit for himself.Parenthetically, this value represents the foundation for the impetus to create Hebrew Free Loan Societies, which in the modern era helped so many Jews establish themselves in this country.

Veteran's Day is an opportunity to honor our veterans. What does Judaism say about defending one's country and fighting for freedom?

Jewish law is clear about our right to self-defense.According to the Talmud if someone is pursuing you (as referenced in Deuteronomy 19) with the intention of killing you, then you are obligated to defend yourself, even if that means you must kill the other.On a larger scale, in terms of battle, if one’s city is attacked, the Talmud also obligates us to defend ourselves and even permits us to break Shabbat in order to do so.Maimonides and certain other important Jewish legal decisors also include permission for preemptive attacks against known would-be aggressors if it is perceived that doing so will save the lives of our fellow countrymen, who could be classified as the would-be defenders. In other words, defending one’s own life and the lives of one’s fellow citizens from attack is a basic right and obligation.Therefore, one who does so in a proper and holy way should be honored.

The law in regard to fighting for freedom and defending human rights when there is not a clear and present danger to the self or a fellow citizen is a more complicated legal matter.However, we are informed by our legal tradition on this matter by the commandments to redeem captives and to defend the basic moral laws of Noah.Past Jewish legalists have made the case that we are obligated to fight for freedom and the rights of others, wherever they are, if the offending nation or group has demonstrated they will essentially hold their citizens captive or deny them basic ethical rights. In this view it is permissable and possibly obligatory to fight in these situations as well.

Clearly all those who have risked, or sacrificed, their lives to defend others or to defend freedom and human rights, deserve our honor and lasting respect.

Essentially the answer to your question is “yes” -- giving gifts on Hanukkah seems to be borrowed from the Christmas tradition to do so.Some trace this borrowing back to Europe while others say this custom mainly became adopted by Jews in the 1950’s here in the United States.In any case, there is no evidence of gift-giving on Hanukkah, for example, from any Talmudic or early rabbinic source.The idea of giving gelt though did develop over time in the Jewish tradition and many have claimed that the original aim of this custom was to inculcate a sense of giving charity over the holiday, while others saw it simply as a form of gift, not too unlike the current custom.The traditional understanding of why gelt is given as a gift on Hanukkah is in order to reward children for their knowledge of the holiday and its customs.Those holding this perspective gave gelt to their children in response to answering questions about Hanukkah and after reciting the history of the holiday.In that view giving gifts would be just fine as long as they are given for the purpose of drawing a child closer to his/her roots or given to help promote the child’s Hanukkah education.Still, the idea of giving gelt is clearly accompanied by the concept of being joyous on Hanukkah and while we would like to avoid promoting materialism or imitating Christmas, appropriate and modest gift giving can certainly add to the fun and joy of the holiday as well.

In Judaism, it is my contention, that good and evil are not simply objects. We don’t only fight for good or against evil, how we “fight” is part of what determines whether we are promoting one or the other. Therefore, in theory, we can and should go as far as we can to “battle evil”. Yet, the way I see it that means that whatever method or process we use to do so has to necessarily be ethical and good in order to qualify as being helpful in our battle for good. In fact, “waging the battle” in an ethical way, in and of itself, helps us win the war. Using evil methods will, therefore, accomplish the opposite. We do not believe that the end justifies the means.

Popular culture throws all sorts of good vs. evil images at us. On balance, I think it is a positive that most of them, like Harry Potter, promote the importance of the triumph of good over evil, of community over individual and of compassion over cruelty. I do think though that too many of them forget that while it is important to send the message that we must be “tough with evil”, they often forget that how we conduct ourselves when fighting it, goes a long way in determining who will win the war.

Question: With the latest news of bombs sent on airplanes to target Chicago synagogues, people are justifiably even more nervous about terrorism than usual. But how do we reconcile being cautious with appearing in any way racist or prejudiced?

With the latest news of bombs sent on airplanes to target Chicago synagogues, people are justifiably even more nervous about terrorism than usual. But how do we reconcile being cautious with appearing in any way racist or prejudiced?

I think that your question speaks to a very important and difficult issue.As the other panelists suggested, Judaism allows and requires us to defend ourselves. We have to be cautious when caution is required. Yet, we have to be careful not to indict a whole religion or cultural group for the actions of some of the members, even if we feel that the number of their members participating in such activity is large or growing.

However, we cannot ignore facts, for example, certain countries have become “hotbeds” for the training of such terrorists, so we must take precautions that are appropriate and backed up by the security information on the ground.We avoid becoming prejudiced or racist by not extrapolating these security facts and methods to speak to all members of a particular terrorist’s religion or ethnic group in all situations. Keeping our focus honors our tradition's imperative that we protect ourselves and keeps us away from violating our prohibitions against falsley judging others.

Are there any Jewish legal or religious traditions that run counter to celebrating Halloween, traditionally a pagan holiday, but now more or less a secular one?

Most traditional authorities do indeed forbid Jews from participating in Halloween rituals of any kind.The basis, from my understanding, is that Halloween has known pagan origins and that therefore, by partaking, Jews would be participating in pagan worship and would be betraying their Jewish faith.

However, as you remark in your question, Halloween has essentially lost any of its pagan intentionality.While it is clearly true that some of the pagan symbols of holiday remain, they mostly exist to entertain.Further, the costumes the children wear are not exclusively ghosts and witches but whatever they desire.Therefore, I am not sure that in terms of strict halakha (Jewish law) that a firm prohibition holds.While I admit that it could be argued either way, it is sensible to hold that children dressing up in costumes and going from door to door to get candy is not really akin to participating in pagan worship.

The question for me, therefore, is more about education.What do our children learn from participating in what we call a “holiday” that is not a Jewish one?If one feels that Halloween is more like Thanksgiving and one can educate their child to think of it that way, perhaps it would be perfectly fine.If one links it to holidays of other faiths, like Christmas, I think educationally there could be a serious problem and it could result in confusing the religious identity of the child.

Question: Tea Party adherents claim global warming is a myth. As politicians spread such lies, and during an election year when odds are likely that Republicans will gain ground in Congress, the danger that fewer government programs will be put in place to combat climate change becomes more and more real. As Jews, how can we help to share scientific truths about global warming and continue to do our duty to repair the world?

Tea Party adherents claim global warming is a myth. As politicians spread such lies, and during an election year when odds are likely that Republicans will gain ground in Congress, the danger that fewer government programs will be put in place to combat climate change becomes more and more real. As Jews, how can we help to share scientific truths about global warming and continue to do our duty to repair the world?

In the Book of Genesis, the Torah commands human beings to “tend” the earth. As well in the Midrash, our sages remind us that if we fail in this mission there will be on one else to carry it on. Therefore, our tradition is very concerned that we, as Jews and human beings, care for the world that God has given us.

We do this by educating our children and the rest of our community about this important role that we must play. We do this through social action programming focused on environmental causes, Mitzvah Days of action when we do our part, and through fund raising to support environmentally conscious organizations. And we do this as a community through organizations such as COEJL (Coalition on the Environment and Jewish Life), who help organize the Jewish community around these issues. While there are many opinions as to how best to preserve our environment, we can use all of these methods to put our best foot forward as Jews and as individuals.

Question: The 33 Chilean miners rescued on October 13 made a pact with each other while trapped underground for 69 days that they wouldn't share publicly the details of their experiences. But in the midst of their own poverty combined with significant media attention, some of them have broken that pact. Are they allowed to break a promise to each other in order to take care of themselves and their families?

The 33 Chilean miners rescued on October 13 made a pact with each other while trapped underground for 69 days that they wouldn't share publicly the details of their experiences. But in the midst of their own poverty combined with significant media attention, some of them have broken that pact. Are they allowed to break a promise to each other in order to take care of themselves and their families?

Within the Jewish tradition the pronouncement of an oath is taken very seriously. Once one is made, only a court of Jewish law can release someone from it. However, in a technical sense, from a halakhic (Jewish legal) point of view, an oath involves a Jew making a promise that invokes God's name.Therefore, standard halakha is not directly relevant in this case.Yet, the value our tradition places on promises does inform the discussion.

From an ethical point of view, with so little knowledge on the exact terms of the pact, it is very difficult to judge.While Jewish tradition clearly places a heavy premium on an oath, or promise, it places an even larger premium on the preservation of life.If the pact was broken to save a life, it is likely that Jewish tradition would stand by that decision.On the other hand, it is important to think about how one person’s breaking of the pact would affect the other miners.If doing so would cause them tangible harm, this could complicate the ethics of such a decision.Still, the sanctity of life remains supreme.

Question: American political culture has become so polarized and there's almost no civility in public discourse. Judaism to me encourages intense discussions about laws and values, but is there a Jewish perspective on how one should debate and discuss political matters?

As you point out in your question, when it comes to discussion about important matters, passionate debate is part and parcel of Jewish discourse.Yet, both in the Torah itself and throughout rabbinic literature there are numerous examples that demonstrate how important respect and honor are when having such debates.In each of the codes of Jewish law, for instance, there are rules for how one should conduct oneself in public speech so as not to offend the honor of another.The concept is that one can passionately disagree with another’s ideas while still respecting their humanity and dignity as a fellow human being (Kavod Habriyut).In fact, the former is conditional on the latter.“Elu v’Elu Divrei Elokim Hayim” – “These and these are the words of the living God”.This verse is taken to mean that when both parties are arguing for the sake of heaven (l’shem shamayim), the result of such a debate, even if it results in disagreement, is holy.When we debate properly our tradition sees it as a sacred endeavor; when we do not, when our discourse lacks civility and higher purpose, such debate is simply destructive.The best example of this in rabbinic literature is the debate between the great sages, Rabbi Joshua and Resh Lakish, during which Rabbi Joshua regrettably insulted Resh Lakish’s character.The Talmud essentially tells us that Resh Lakish died from the insult and that Rabbi Joshua never recovered from the loss and tragedy of what his insult had set in motion.Two great sages were in essence ruined by disrespectful discourse.On the other hand, our Talmud contains pages and pages of debates and differing opinions where even the opinion that was not accepted was respectfully recorded for future consideration.It is to this ideal that we strive.

Is an "unveiling ceremony" (of a headstone in a cemetery) required by Jewish law - rather than by Jewish custom?

Historically what Jewish law and practice have required is the actual placement of a headstone at the grave of their relative (Hakamat Hamatzeivah).Jewish graves are not allowed to be unmarked.However, there is no actual legal requirement to hold a ceremony (which we now call “the unveiling” or “dedication”) to mark the placement of the stone.However, participation in such a ceremony has become standard practice, or custom, amongst most Jews of all streams, at least in the United States.Custom as to when such a ceremony should occur varies.According to some, this can (and should) be done immediately after shivah (the seven day mourning period).Others wait until after shloshim (the thirty day period) and others wait a full year.

What are your views on persons asserting Crypto Jewish heritage in the American Southwest who want to claim Jewish status?

As a rabbi my view is that it is almost always a positive occurrence when people express serious interest in Judaism. In this case, I feel this way even more so, since these folks assert actual Jewish ancestry and are attempting to reclaim their family heritage. Yet, as with anyone who was practicing a different religion, especially over multiple generations, they would be expected to go through the traditional process for all those who wish to become an official member of the Jewish people. This process would include a meaningful period of study, concluding with the traditional rituals of entering the Jewish people and of course a celebration. All those feeling a connection to the Jewish people and the Jewish religion should be treated with dignity and seriousness as they decide what they wish their connection to be.

In one sense, there is no such thing as a “typical” Shabbat, because different kinds of Jews observe Shabbat differently. Yet, as a Conservative rabbi I can identify for you what I believe a typical traditional Shabbat entails and represents. To begin, the concept of Shabbat and its establishment in law comes right from the Torah (the Bible). Shabbat is mentioned on numerous occasions, including in such prominent places as the narrative of the Creation story as well as being found as a part of God’s revelation to the Israelites in the form of the Ten Commandments on Mt. Sinai. What we essentially learn from these passages is that Shabbat was an integral part of the creation of the world and that during Shabbat God demands that we take a break from productivity and creativity, activities in which we are obligated to partake during the week just as God did during the first days of creation. Instead, on these days we are to engage in activities of reflection, appreciation and gratitude for all that God has provided for us. In practice that means that on Shabbat traditionally observant Jews do not: go to work, travel, run errands, create art, write, cook etc. Rather, Shabbat is marked engaging in: family time, prayer, study, shared meals, community interaction and rest. These general concepts and guidelines, over time, have lead to the creation of whole system of laws that try to preserve this core of activities, prohibiting many behaviors related to the former list of categories so as to focus us and allow for the activities that should engage us in the core meaning of the day.

That being said, a traditional Shabbat would begin, in a sense of Friday. During the day on Friday, final preparations are made for Shabbat: any cooking needed to be done to prepare for Shabbat, any shopping, any errands, cleaning, etc. Since Jewish days begin at sundown, Shabbat would be officially welcomed in on Friday evening with the lighting of at least two candles and the recitation of a blessing over those candles. Henceforth, the rules of Shabbat take hold until Saturday night when the new week is ushered in. After, or in conjunction with candle lighting, the Friday evening prayers are recited, characterized by a special Shabbat service called Kabbalat Shabbat, which focuses on the themes of Shabbat and of our appreciation of God and God’s works. Typically, after the evening prayer service individual families and/or friends will gather for a ritual meal, in which family members receive each other’s blessings and during which special blessings are also made over the wine (Kiddush) and Challah (braided bread made especially for Shabbat and Holidays). Typically the next morning people will attend Shabbat synagogue services, have another festive meal for lunch and spend the remainder of the afternoon resting, enjoying family and friends or studying. As the day turns towards evening the Afternoon and Evening prayers are said, often accompanied by a light meal, singing and studying. Shabbat is concluded with a special ceremony called Havdalah, during which we welcome the new week and say good-bye to the Sabbath with all of our senses represented by a special candle, fragrant spices and wine. Details about each of these rituals and commentary about the spiritual meaning of Shabbat are readily available in many sources, including The Sabbath by Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel (philosophical and spiritual meaning) and The Shabbat Seder by Dr. Ron Wolfson (a guide to Shabbat practice in the home). Other helpful websites may include: www.uscj.org and www.jtsa.edu.

Any questions directed toward understanding God’s “consciousness”, so to speak, are difficult to answer. In my view God does not act as a typical third party, in the way a human being would. In fact, the very nature of God is unique, in that God transcends and unites humanity at the same time.

Yet, our tradition is firmly rooted in the concept of free will – the ability of the human being to choose his/her path. Our entire Torah is an attempt to persuade us to follow God’s commandments. There would be no need to persuade if God’s plan for the universe was to force us to follow the one correct path. We are made in the image of God and right from our creation we are commanded to be partners with God in determining the fate of our world.

In that regard, there are many strands within traditional Judaism that recognize that there are multiple ways of life that honor God. As a general rule, for example, we do not seek converts, nor do we theologically condemn members of other religious groups to some sort of “hell”. The meaning of the “Chosen People” is actually premised on the idea that we were chosen to follow the Torah as part of our particular covenant with God – no other people is bound by it in the same way. This also implicitly teaches us that others may have a different covenant with God that could be valid as well. There are many paths to the top of the mountain.

Violence is not a path sanctioned by Judaism to prove the truth of religion. While Israel may have to fight defensive wars in order to survive, violence in the name of religion has no place in this world. Yet, the responsibility for the cessation of such religious violence lies not at the “feet of God” but at our own feet. I pray that the world community will unite against it.

As the child of a Jewish mother, a child who dies before brit milah, or before a naming, is still considered Jewish. As the Mishnah writes, “A one-day old infant, if he dies, is considered to his father and mother and all relatives like a full bridegroom”. Therefore, according to Jewish law, the child must be buried in a Jewish cemetery with proper honor and sensitivity. In fact, some classic commentators even had the custom of performing brit milah on the child on the day of burial. This is not the common custom but demonstrates how the history of Jewish law upholds the Jewishness of such a child in a very real and tangible way.

While there are multiple opinions as to the exact nature of the mourning and burial practices to be followed in such a case (because full mourning is not required by Jewish law for any child who died at less than thirty days old), within the Conservative movement, for those families who wish, there is a tradition of utilizing various traditional Jewish rituals in these situations. Further, there is little debate about the permissibility of giving the child a name. A child who dies before a brit milah or naming can certainly be given one. The parents can either choose the one they had intended to give the child or one that reflects the nature of the tragedy, like Nehamah or Menachem (both meaning “comfort”). The name can then be used in the burial ceremony and during future remembrances.

Question: From a Jewish perspective, what level of personal honesty is required for a job interview and application? For example, if they ask you “have you ever taken drugs?" and I tried them once in college, do I have to admit to this?

There is absolutely no question that telling the truth is a firm and central value in the Torah, Talmud and throughout Jewish tradition, thus generally making uttering a falsehood forbidden. The Bible instructs us repeatedly: "Keep far from a false matter" (Exodus 23:7); "You shall not steal, neither shall you deal falsely, nor lie to one another" (Leviticus 19:11); "Speak the truth to one another" (Zechariah 8:16); "Remove all false ways from me" (Psalms 119:29), etc. The Mishnah, an early Rabbinic anthology of Jewish law and ethics, adds: "The world rests on three pillars: on justice, on truth and on peace" (Avot 1:18). Further, the Talmud, a vast compendium of Jewish law, thought and ethics compiled in the 6th century, discusses this value in several places. Finally, the Shulkhan Arukh, and other codes of law since, have codified clear and practical guidelines regarding lying as well.

Yet, it is also clear that Jewish tradition does not take an absolutist approach to lying; there are times when our tradition allows for it, even demands it. The Talmud cites at least four such instances that one could use to extrapolate various categories that relate to each example. In summary, without a detailed analysis of each text, lying seems to be permissible on some level: 1) to preserve the cause of peace, not to hurt another person’s feeling, or to provide comfort; 2) for the sake of modesty or in order not to appear arrogant; 3) for the sake of decency, i.e., not telling the truth about intimate matters that would embarrass; 4) to protect one’s property from those you have reason to believe are unethical or mean you harm.; 5) to save a life.

These categories aside, the default position is that lying is forbidden and further that creating justifications for lying can lead to a slippery slope that has the potential to sink a community into a moral downward spiral. The extreme importance of honesty in this regard is appropriately summed up by the Talmudic belief that the first question a person is asked in the hereafter during the final judgment is, "Have you been honest in your dealings?"

Thus, how liberally we apply these exceptional categories to our real-life situations is a serious business. As I read the texts and the commentaries, there seems to be little justification for lying in a job interview without the presence of major extenuating circumstances. I say this because most of the reasons that our tradition gives for the permissibility of lying revolve around protecting others and/or specific ethical values (ex. modesty, decency). Lying to protect or advance oneself seems to be relegated for use only when material harm is evident, particularly at the hands of people known to have caused harm, or to have acted unethically, in the past.

Therefore, if we are asked if we have done drugs and the answer is “once in college”, we seem to be obligated to answer as such. The belief seems to be in such a case that the potential employer will be able to contextualize the answer and hopefully conclude that such a fact only minimally impacts one’s fitness as a potential employee. The possible harm such a statement might have on one’s success in securing a job does not outweigh the moral obligation to tell the truth. Following what I wrote previously though, the exception to this might be if a) you have strong reason to believe that the interviewer will not give that piece of information the proper context, or b) you know that the interviewer has it “out for you” for whatever reason and will use that information improperly, or c) if you don’t get the job, you or your family could starve, for example, or be directly and seriously harmed. In the last case, since the fact that you tried drugs in college won’t really impact your ability to do your job, the material import of your being hired may outweigh the prohibition of such a falsehood. As you can see, this issue is very complicated and there is no stock answer that can be given. How to apply these ethical values should be determined on a case by case basis.

The traditional Jewish prohibition against cremation stems for the Talmud, the compendium of Jewish law and lore edited in the 6th Century. This prohibition was written into law during the centuries following, both in individual rabbinic legal decisions (teshuvot) as well as in the major Jewish legal codes. The reason most commonly associated with this prohibition is kavod hamet, honoring the dead. Following our understanding that our bodies have been given to us as a gift from God, even in death they are to be treated, as such, with great respect. Burning the body, as occurs during cremation, was considered to exemplify the opposite of that ideal. Reducing the God-given form of the body to ashes was seen as disrespecting the body as it was created. Alternatively, burying the body in the earth, one of the essential creations of God, and then allowing it to return to the earth organically, was seen as the most respectful way to treat the body. Similarly, that is why Jews traditionally bury in wooden caskets, so that decomposition can occur in a more organic fashion – no preserving material will interfere. While, from a legal and textual tradition, there are particular reasons for this prohibition, the underlying value is respect for God’s creations and as well as respect for the dead.

The Torah actually dedicates three separate verses to remind and reinforce a child’s obligation to one’s parents. In these verses the Torah employs two different verbs to describe our obligation “Yirah” (fear) and “Kavod” (honor). “Yirah” was interpreted by the rabbis to indicate those actions we were forbidden to take against our parents, while “kavod” was interpreted to indicate the positive actions we should take to fulfill this commandment. Many different classical sources attempt to enumerate and discuss a child’s obligations to parents, both positive and negative, in great detail.

Further, considering the fact that two of these verses appear as the fifth of the “Ten Commandments”, which were given to the ancient Israelites on Mt.Sinai, clearly our obligation in regard to parents was considered by the Torah to be extremely important. Rabbinic literature, in the Talmud, highlights the significance of the child’s obligation to one’s parent with a revealing vignette. A son is caring for his aging and ill father who asks him for a glass of water. By the time he returns with the water, his father has fallen asleep. He therefore stands by his father’s bedside for hours, glass in hand, until his father wakes up, allowing him to fulfill his father’s original command at the first possible moment. In light of this story, our obligation to aging parents seems limitless. The logic seems to be that they helped give us life, so we owe them whatever we can give.

In addition, elsewhere in Rabbinic literature, on several occasions, the rabbis inquire as to what the limit of financial support due to a parent might be. While multiple opinions are shared, in essence the opinion that the child must support his parents with his own funds is upheld again and again. To exactly what extent must one stretch financially, no hard and fast rule can fit every situation. However, clearly there is a serious obligation that the child owes his parents in these situations that does demand that the child make reasonable sacrifices. In situations in which the parents have acted in a pattern of wickedness or attempted to force the child to violate the commandments, things are not as clear. For example, Yosef Karo who authored the major Jewish legal code, the Shulkhan Arukh, wrote “Even if his father is a wicked sinner, the son honors and reveres him.” However, Rabbi Moshe Issreles, another great Jewish legal figure who wrote the gloss that appears integrated into Karo’s own text, wrote “There are those who say that one is not obligated to honor his wicked father unless he did teshuvah (sought repentance).” In other words, according to Issreles, if your parents were wicked, both in general or to the child, this could release the child from the obligation to support the parent, unless the parent sincerely sought forgiveness.

A firm belief in the near-absolute sanctity of life in Judaism is apparent in all sectors of Jewish law. Therefore, it should be no surprise that in regard to abortion Jewish law is no different. However, in applying such a principle to abortion, the crucial question becomes, when does life actually begin? On this matter Jewish tradition seems clear -- the Talmud tells us that full life only begins at birth. In other words, while obviously a fetus could represent the potential for life, in a legal and ethical sense a baby is only treated as a full living being when it is born. That being the case, abortion cannot be equated with murder and thus the more stringent legal/ethical arguments against abortion cannot be used in traditional Jewish legal discourse. In fact, due to the primacy placed on the sanctity of life, abortion may even be mandated in cases when the pregnancy endangers the life of the mother. This is because the full life of the mother takes priority over the potential life of the unborn child. Over time many rabbis have even included mental and emotional health concerns in regard to the mother as potential justification for allowing or mandating an abortion. Further, there is a distinction made between the first forty days of gestation and the time period beginning the forty-first day. This distinction means that legally the justification for abortion before the forty-first day need not be as stringent as justification required for an abortion after.

However, despite Judaism's distinction between life and potential life, Jewish tradition also recognizes the sanctity of potential life in real way. In that regard, abortion is not looked upon as completely discretionary or as acceptable in every circumstance. As a matter of both theology and law, Jewish tradition holds that our bodies are not completely our own -- they are gifts from God. As such our conduct toward our bodies needs to conform to Jewish law and therefore we may not cause our bodies harm. While, as a matter of politics, we may not want the US government to make the laws in this arena for us, traditional Jewish support for the Pro-Choice movement should not be taken to mean that ethically all decisions to abort made by individual women, or specific families, in particular cases are ethically correct. Cases which include children who will be born out of wedlock, children who will be born with known severe disabilities, children who will be born as a result of unwanted pregnancies, all present complicated scenarios that many rabbis have chosen to address individually -- one by one. However, according to my understanding of Jewish law, all such decisions revolve around the determination of whether such pregnancies will cause harm to another's life, however one chooses to definte that phrase.

In the Torah the rabbis have identified two kinds of laws, hukim and mishpatim. While mishpatim have explicit rationales in the Torah, hukim do not. Kashrut, falling into the latter category, has been the subject of a great deal of commentary aimed at helping us to understand it's purpose and spiritual benefit. The Torah does link kashrut to kedusha, or holiness, and connects the observance of kashrut to a concept often referred to as imatatio dei -- imitating God. This helps us to understand that these dietary laws were instituted on some level to help us to fulfill our roles as partners with God in a more complete way and to encourage us to behave in our lives in a more Godly fashion. Specific values, such as tzar baalei hayim, the ban on cruelty to animals, as well as idea of spiritual discipline and curbing our animal appetites have also been applied to these laws. Most rabbis and scholars, therefore, see the observance of the laws of kashrut as opportunities for us to spiritualize both the preparation and consuming of food - a daily activities that necessarily find themselves at the center of a human being's life.

Specifically in regard to the separation of milk and meat, the Torah states three times, "You shall not cook a calf in its mother's milk" (Ex. 23:19; Ex. 34:26; Deut. 14:21). Our early Sages, and the rabbis who followed after, did not see this verse only in its literal meaning. Rather, perhaps due to its three-fold repetition, they gave it a more expansive interpretation, seeing it as the source for the general prohibition of eating milk and meat products together. Later, to avoid confusion, the rabbis extended this prohibition to include the mixing of fowl and dairy products, as well.

The spiritual rationale for this particular law that is most commonly applied is that we must not eat "the flesh of the animal together with the milk that was meant to sustain it" (Kushner, Etz Hayim). In line with the concept of respecting the animals that supply us with food, we find it cruel, spiritually and metaphorically, to cook and eat the flesh of the animal in the very life-giving substance meant to nourish it. Therefore,this general prohibition is supposed to develop in each of us a respect for life, an appreciation for God's creatures as well as a sensitivity to any type of cruelty. In addition, Maimonides saw this particular law as teaching us a more spiritual lesson. He claimed that kashrut in general, including the prohibition of eating milk and meat together, was en exercise in curbing our animalistic appetites and instilling in us spiritual discipline. The most base element in us might want to eat anything we wanted at any time. However the sacred dimension of being human requires that we recognize that we must be humble in our world outlook and recognize the limitations that we must place on our own personal desires. Kashrut helps us foster that outlook and develop that spiritual discipline. It aids us in recognizing God's blessings and in becoming more appreciative for that which we have.

The determination of Jewish identity is a complicated matter. The answer to such a question, therefore, would depend on the perspective from which one asks. If identity is to be defined by the individual him/herself then external sources become irrelevant -- people are who they say they are. However, most would agree that identity is not so simple, a person's identity is also determined by the people around them -- by their community and the norms of the culture of which they are a part.

According to traditional Jewish law, a person is a Jew if they were born to a Jewish mother or they converted to Judaism according to Jewish law. From a purely legal perspective, therefore, belief in God has no bearing on one's status as a Jew. Many legal perspectives even hold that one who converts out of Judaism is still a Jew, despite their acceptance of other faith principles. Further, it is clear that early Rabbinic Judaism de-emphasized dogmas, or specific faith assertions. One even finds the statement in the Midrash (ancient rabbinic commentary on the Bible) in reaction to the following quote from the book of Jeremiah, which states: "'[They] have forsaken Me and have not kept my Torah'." --'If only they had forsaken Me and kept my Torah.'" This statement implies that doing mitzvot, following the commandments, whatever the rationale was central, while belief in God was less so.

Yet, in truth, as a monotheistic faith a belief in God on some level is certainly understood. Almost all of our customs and laws in some way have theological import and meaning. As a Conservative rabbi, I certainly hold that a belief in God is an extremely important part of any Jewish identity. However, Judaism has rarely required one to define God, leaving room for a wide variety of beliefs about God: God as the mover of history, God as the unity of the universe, God as the spirit inside of all living beings, etc Further, while I certainly think that more people, on some level, believe in God than would say so when asked, I also hold that while a belief in God is certainly central to Judaism, a lack of belief in God does not disqualify one from being a Jew.

THE VIEWS EXPRESSED IN ANSWERS PROVIDED HEREIN ARE THOSE OF THE INDIVIDUAL JVO PANEL MEMBERS, AND DO NOT
NECESSARILY REFLECT OR REPRESENT THE VIEWS OF THE ORTHODOX, CONSERVATIVE OR REFORM MOVEMENTS, RESPECTIVELY.